


Why is Somebody Watching Me?

by chochowilliams



Series: Haunted [2]
Category: Gravitation
Genre: Angst, Canon Het Relationship, F/M, General, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, No Sex, Original Characters - Freeform, Paranormal, Romance, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-17 16:49:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chochowilliams/pseuds/chochowilliams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shuichi and Eiri moved into the Sanbancho Daiichi Mansions and discovered that their condominium was haunted. Now 3 years later, their 80-year-old neighbor, Koji Aso, tells Tohma a tale that started thirty years ago…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why is Somebody Watching Me?

**Why is Somebody Watching Me**  
 **Haunted series**  
 **One-shot**  
 **Sequel to:** “Somebody’s Watching Me”  
 **Written by:** chochowilliams  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Gravitation or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.  
 **Summary:** Shuichi and Eiri moved into the Sanbancho Daiichi Mansions and discovered that their condominium was haunted. Now 3 years later, their 80-year-old neighbor, Koji Aso, tells Tohma a tale that started thirty years ago…  
 **Warning:** Short, General, Supernatural, Paranormal, OCs, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, No Sex, M/M, M/F  
 **Pairings:** OMC/OFC, implied Tohma/Mika, Shuichi/Eiri  
 **A/N:** This is the second installment of the Haunted series. In order they are: “Somebody’s Watching Me”  & “Why Is Somebody Watching Me?”. Enjoy!

 

* * *

 

**Three Years Later - Aso Residence - Sanbancho Daiichi Mansion**

Eighty-year-old Koji Aso sipped his tea slowly as he eyed his guest over the rim of the cup.

His wife had gone to the farmer’s market that was held weekly at the park just down the street. She’d been gone since shortly after breakfast. Here it was lunch and she had yet to return. Koji wasn’t worried though. He’d be more worried if she had returned. Usually she spent hours there browsing and chatting. She’d be home in another couple of hours loaded down with bags of fresh fruit and vegetables and quite possibly a new plant or two--not that they needed any more, he thought with a snort as he fished his gaze towards the far end of the room; their living room was turning into a greenhouse.

The six cats his wife had adopted over the last ten years were nowhere in sight either. Knowing the furry felines, they were all sprawled out in their son’s old bedroom sunbathing and turning the white comforter black.

At the moment, it was just him and his guest, a man who called himself Tohma Seguchi. The man was perched on the armchair that was placed diagonally from the couch on which Koji sat.

Koji lowered the cup into the saucer and placed both on the coffee table before sitting back with an arm stretched out along the arm of the sofa and the other one resting on his leg.

He eyed the younger man warily.

“Please, Mr. Aso. If you know anything, it would be much appreciated.”

Koji continued to eye the blond haired man for several moments longer before sighing.

While he’d heard what happened to Mr. Uesugi and sympathized, Koji was not at all comfortable with dredging up the past. The past should remain as such. What use would it do to dredge it all up again?

Koji sighed again.

Or so he thought up until he heard about Mr. Uesugi’s stroke. Mr. Uesugi was extremely lucky. The last person who resided in that condominium whom had a stroke had not been so lucky. In fact, there was a long history of unfortunate occurrences happening to the males that reside in that condominium.

It’d been a battle. Should he or shouldn’t he? In the past, Koji had taken to avoiding the occupants. What was the point of getting to know them if they were just going to be leaving in a short time anyway? If you aren’t attached, you won’t miss them when they’re gone. Easy.

Or it used to be up until Mr. Shindou and Mr. Uesugi moved into the building. While Mr. Uesugi tended to be a little on the antisocial side, maybe a tad introverted, Mr. Shindou was the exact opposite: outgoing, friendly and quite the chatterbox.

Koji chuckled quietly as he remembered the first time meeting the younger man. He’d been amazed at how much the boy could say without the need for air. Guess that had a lot to do with him being a singer.

He’d gotten to know Mr. Shindou and through him Mr. Uesugi. He’d even spoken to Mr. Uesugi on an occasion or two, exchanged a few pleasantries. And despite his rule to never become involved with those who resided within That Place, he slowly found himself doing just that. In no time at all, he considered both friends.

Then the battle commenced. Since he liked them, should he not warn them? Did they not deserve to know? Wasn’t it his duty as their friend? As a human being? Wasn’t it cowardly to remain in the shadows and say nothing as family after family fell apart because of--of--of whatever it was that lingered in That Place? Perhaps it was, but it was still so painful even today, all of these years later, to speak about it let alone dwell upon it even briefly and that was even on good days.

If it were anyone else, Koji would have slammed the door in his face, told him to mind his own business, let sleeping dogs lie as the saying went, but because it was for Mr. Shindou and Mr. Uesugi, he would relent this one time.

Koji was grateful his wife had not yet returned from the farmer’s market. She had never quite gotten over what happened, only barely being able to move on, so rehashing those events would be detrimental.

“It happened thirty years ago,” Koji said softly into the quiet of the condominium.

He paused. Thirty years? Has it really been that long? It was hard to believe that three decades had passed since that horrible day. Most days he was fine, but there were some days where he would wake feeling the same anguish he felt then. It would all come flooding back--the sorrow, the heartache. Those were the bad days, dark days, where he couldn’t bring himself to get up out of bed. They were few far in-between as the years passed, but they still existed even now.

Perched on the edge of the armchair with his hands clasped between his knees, Tohma Seguchi leaned forward.

“There was another building here then,” Koji was saying. “My wife, myself and our two children--a daughter named Momoko and a son Katsuhiro--lived on the third floor. It’d gone into such disrepair that when new owners bought the building, they decided it would be more cost effective to knock it down and just rebuild. All the residents were given priority placement within the new building if they so choose. The company even paid for temporary housing and storage.”

Tohma was impressed. He could not remember a company being so generous.

“Only half of the units were occupied at the time.”

That was understandable since the building had gone into such disrepair.

“And the neighborhood had long since gone downhill.” Koji shook his head at the memories. To watch the very neighborhood where his mother had grown up, where he had grown up and where he’d raised his own children go from a family friendly middle class area to a pseudo-ghetto had been depressing. All that started to change when the Sanbancho Daiichi Mansion condominium building had been built. “By the time the complex was completed, my daughter had gotten married. She and her husband--he was a doctor you know--moved onto the fifth floor-”

What the elderly man said had Tohma’s eyes widening minutely and had his heart pounding. “In-?”

Koji nodded. “In the very place where your friend lives, yes. My wife, my son and I moved here.” He waved a hand about.

Tohma swallowed. He was beginning to put some of the pieces together. “Your daughter…Was she on the short side? Short curly black hair? Light brown eyes? Had some sort of-of mark on the side of her neck?” That was the description of the woman Shuichi had seen in the closet his first night in the condominium. Even all of these years later, the incident still terrified Shuichi. It was difficult to get him or Eiri to speak about what had transpired.

“Yes,” Koji answered simply. Momoko had been the spitting image of his wife, including the birthmark. He was not the least bit surprised that the man sitting before him, most likely having heard from Mr. Shindou, knew what his daughter looked like even though she’d been dead for quite a few number of years now.

Tohma nodded absently as his mind worked overtime. So the specter Shuichi had seen was Momoko Aso. That was one mystery solved.

“A month after moving in, Momoko announced she was pregnant,” Koji continued with a proud grin on his face, but as quickly as it appeared, it fell. “About halfway through the pregnancy, Shuhei, my son-in-law,” Koji explained, “started complaining about not feeling very well.”

Tohma frowned. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

“He went to numerous doctors and specialists, but none of them could find anything wrong with him. Some believed that he was merely overworking himself and suggested taking an extended leave of absence from the hospital. Shuhei believed--we all believed--that had to be the case. We feared, as did Momoko, that he was working himself into an early grave. The thought of raising their child as a single parent terrified my daughter.”

Oh how Koji wished that were an exaggeration. Unfortunately, if anything it was an understatement. Shuhei had been highly skilled and one of the most sought after doctors in the entire city and often worked overtime. It hadn’t been unusual in the slightest for Shuhei to take over a colleague’s shift for whatever reason. An admirable trait to be sure, but one that seemed to have unforeseen consequences.

“So we urged him to take a break and thankfully he did.” Koji dropped his head and stared at his slippered feet against the wooden flooring.

For so long, he’d blamed the doctors and specialists. Then he’d blamed Shuhei for not realizing what was happening, as he’d been a doctor himself. How could something like this have gone overlooked?

“Then one day, a week into his vacation, he--Shuhei was in the study working on a paper he was co-authoring with another doctor that was going to be published in some medical journal. My daughter was in the master bedroom on the other side of the condo straightening out their closet.” His dark eyes prickled with the birth of tears and his throat was cinched tight. Koji violently cleared his throat. “Around dinner time, she went to the study to see what Shuhei was in the mood for, but when she got there…” Koji let his voice trail off. The sight of his son-in-law slumped over the desk--his eyes wide and vacant; his face pale--still haunted him. “We got a frantic phone call from our daughter and we--my wife, my son and I--raced up there, but…” It was too late. “We called for an ambulance…”

Feeling sick, Tohma found it suddenly difficult to swallow.

Déjà vu. That sounded eerily similar to what transpired to Eiri. If Eiri hadn’t been on the phone with him…If Shuichi hadn’t thought he’d heard Eiri calling out to him…It is quite possible that Eiri would not be here today. Just the thought of what could have happened caused him to feel cold and nauseous.

“Do you know what happened to Shuhei?” Tohma asked hesitantly.

“Blood clot,” Koji said simply.

Tohma nodded. “I am sorry for your loss, Mr. Aso and I apologize for forcing you to have to relive it.”

Koji smiled gently at this but remained silent.

“Thank you again,” Tohma said with a low bow.

Koji inclined his head in return.

After showing himself to the door, for Koji Aso seemed lost in thought or possibly memory, Tohma made his way down to the fifth floor to his brothers-in-law’s place. He rang the buzzer and immediately heard a stampede.

Ichigo, he thought with a chuckle.

There was the sound of the lock turning and moments later, the door was thrown open.

“Hello Eiri, Ichigo,” Tohma greeted his harassed looking brother-in-law and his three year old nephew.

With an unlit cigarette clamped between his lips, Eiri eyed the shorter blond haired man warily while struggling to hold a squirming Ichigo.

Tohma chuckled lightly at the sight. Ichigo clearly took after Shuichi.

“What do you want?” Eiri growled testily.

“Don’t mind him,” immediately came the voice from somewhere within the house. “Eiri was up all night with the baby.”

Eiri stepped aside to allow Tohma to peer around his massive bulk at Shuichi who appeared from out of the kitchen feeding the tiniest bundle in his arms.

“This is the newest addition, yes?”

“Emiko,” Shuichi said as he crossed towards the foyer.

Tohma eyed Eiri. Emiko had been the name of Mika, Eiri and Tatsuha’s mother.

“It was the br-Shuichi’s idea,” Eiri said as turned around and set his son down. Ichigo took the opportunity to take off like rocket for parts unknown, but Tohma heard the sound of things, most likely toys, been tossed around. Eiri pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So…What do you want?” Eiri demanded.

“To tell you a little story about Momoko and Shuhei.”

Eiri eyed his brother-in-law distrustfully.

“Well, come in then,” Shuichi said cordially when he realized that his husband was not going to say anything. “Want some coffee or something?” he asked as he led both men into the living room where Ichigo had managed to upend his entire toy chest across the entirety of the living room. How that was even possible was a mystery.

“No thank you,” Tohma said as he took a seat on the armchair. “So,” he started after everyone had settled. “It all started thirty years ago…”

 

* * *

 

Back on the eighth floor, Koji Aso stood before the portable electric fireplace his son had bought for he and his wife last Christmas. The hearth was cold, not dissimilar to how he felt after relating the heartbreaking tale of how his family had been torn apart. Among the framed photographs upon the mantle was a picture of Momoko. It was the last photo taken of his baby girl--just a week before The Incident. What made the picture even more tragic was that his daughter’s belly was just beginning to become noticeable swollen.

His grandchild.

What he had not told Mr. Seguchi and what Mr. Seguchi had not asked about, for which Koji was thankful, was that not long after his son-in-law passed, Momoko lost their baby. The double whammy sent his daughter spiraling out of control. She sunk into a severe depression that she had been unable, or unwilling, to rise out of. Koji and his wife sent their daughter to a number of specialists, but Momoko just kept deteriorating right in front of their eyes. A year to the day after Shuhei died, Momoko took her own life. She had taken a bed sheet and hung herself in the closet of the master bedroom.

Feeling the sting of tears, Koji cleared his throat violently and set the photograph of Momoko back on the mantle before turning away. He could not remember having picked it up.

As he made his way back to the couch, he reflected on what Aiya, his daughter’s best friend, had told him at Momoko’s funeral.

“I should’ve known she’d do something like this,” Aiya had said through her tears and soft sobs.

Koji had shaken his head at her words. There was no way any of them could have foreseen this even though he himself had those same guilty feelings.

He knew that there are those whose suicide attempts are nothing more than pleas for help or attention. Other suicides are nothing more than accidents--due to erotic asphyxiation, for example. Then there are others like her daughter who truly had wanted to die. Those are the most difficult to deal with for those left behind for they live in a world of perpetual denial, they refuse to believe the truth. They refuse to accept that nothing they could have done would have prevented the tragedy from occurring. For if somebody truly sought Death, that person would find a way no matter the obstacles in the way.

“I mean,” Aiya had continued, “I stayed with her last week and-and she actually seemed like-as if…as if she were finally coming to accept Shuhei’s death. She was acting like her normal self instead of this-this half-dead zombie.” She sniffled and briefly gazed over her shoulder at the casket before tearing her gaze away.

Even now, Koji could remember Momoko laughing as her brother relayed something his toddler had done the day before. Koji could remember thinking the same thing Aiya had: she was getting better. Momoko was returning to them. It was the reason why her death had come as such a shock.

“But I noticed-at night,” Aiya had said, “I would hear her walking around. All night. She never slept. She would pace back and forth over the same path in the kitchen as if she were-planning or…” Aiya had broken off after that as she burst into tears.

Koji had never told his wife about that conversation and he never planned to, but he couldn’t help but wonder, though, as he thought over what had transpired to Mr. Shindou and Mr. Uesugi in that condominium.

Maybe, just maybe.

 

**…Owari**

 


End file.
